you won’t see them often
for wherever the crowd is
they
are not.
those odd ones, not

Abstraction is an old story with t
Granted no one but a humanist much
Then there is this wildness whereo
It should be of the pleasure of a
No tears in the writer, no tears i

We sit indoors and talk of the col
And every gust that gathers streng
Is a threat to the house. But the
We think of the tree. If it never
We’ll know, we say, that this was

The large cool store selling cheap
Set out in simple sizes plainly
(Knitwear, Summer Casuals, Hose,
In Browns and greys, maroons and
Conjures the weekday world of thos

The kindliest thing God ever made
His hand of very healing laid
Upon a fevered world, is shade.
His glorious company of trees
Throw out their mantles, and on th

When I think about myself,
I almost laugh myself to death,
My life has been one great big jok
A dance that’s walked
A song that’s spoke,

We wear the mask that grins and li
It shades our cheeks and hides our
This debt we pay to human guile
With torn and bleeding hearts…
We smile and mouth the myriad subt

On the grass when I arrive,
Filling the stillness with life,
But ready to scare off
At the very first wrong move.
In the ivy when I leave.

The highway is full of big cars
going nowhere fast
And folks is smoking anything that
Some people wrap their lies around
And you sit wondering

I can see myself now
after all these suicide days and n
being wheeled out of one of those
(of course, this is only if I get
by a subnormal and bored nurse

Don’t call this world adorable, or
It’s frisky, and a theater for mor
The eyelash of lightning is neithe
The struck tree burns like a pilla
But the blue rain sinks, straight

The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance...
our long way home.
I was always yours to have.